Of Knowing and Naps
by MissEMT
Summary: oneshot. James Potter knows his wife very well. But this he hadn't seen before. smut-tastic.


"Harry's down for his nap."

James looks up from _The Prophet_ in his hands. His wife stands by the door, her eyes lazily on him.

James Potter knows his wife very well. He knows that to soothe Harry she will have wrapped him in her arms and rocked the boy gently until his eyes were drooping. She will have stifled any cries from her son by singing sweet nothings to the tune of muggle musical films she used to watch as a child. She will have stroked his downy head three times after laying him down and watched him until his breathing evened out. James knows all of this.

"That's good," he replies easily. He returns his attention to the paper, leaning heavily into the armchair he's in.

Lily takes a seat in the sofa opposite, sighing as she goes. James looks to her again as her long legs swing up to stretch along the cushions and her head nestles into the armrest. A peaceful smile sits on her lips. She closes her eyes.

"I'm so exhausted," she mutters. Her lips part.

James lets his eyes wonder down the length of his wife. He knows the beautiful figure that is his wife well. The swell of her breasts into a slim waist, curving slightly out to narrow hips. Her long legs that slope to the tips of her bare toes.

"Mm, me as well," James murmurs after a lengthy moment. His eyes are still on her as she sits up, pushing herself onto her elbows. Her eyes rake the carpeted floor languidly.

"I think I need a nap as well," she says. She lifts herself from the sofa, pulling her hair from the tie, letting it swing down behind her back. James opens his mouth to protest, wanting to keep her there, but his brain seems to have become rather sluggish as he watches his wife with wide eyes.

Lily reaches up to inch her cardigan from her shoulders, her footsteps slowing as she nears the doorway. The jumper falls to the floor with a slump but she continues as though nothing has happened at all. She unbuttons her jeans, letting them hang from her hips before her movement has them sliding their way over her thighs. She easily steps out of the trousers, leaving them in a puddle behind her, just as she disappears out of the door.

James Potter knows his wife very well. But this he hadn't seen before.

James allows his hands to fold the newspaper and shove it aside, his eyes never leaving the space his wife had inhabited just seconds before. Rising to his feet, he walks quickly to the hallway, not bothering to step over the cardigan and jeans left in Lily's wake. It is not these clothes he's interested in any longer.

He moves to the staircase and gradually makes his way upstairs. A t-shirt hangs over the banister. Nearing the landing, he spots a pink, laced bra flung on a step. He picks it up gingerly, running his hands over the material. Though it is the item left outside his bedroom that really catches his attention. Bending over, he picks up the pink, frilled knickers. The tiny piece of fabric runs easily between his fingers as he pauses before the door. A devilish smile growing on his lips, he pushes his way into the bedroom.

She lies atop the duvet, on her side, facing away from him. Her naked figure curving along the mattress, her hair spilling over her shoulder. He takes a tentative step forward. Her legs are folded over one another, smooth skin melting into the blankets beneath.

Perhaps James Potter doesn't know his wife as well as he thought.

The floor creaks below him as he moves toward her. Her head lifts at the sound. She turns slightly. Her shoulder pulling back, her breasts sliding forward. "James?" she asks in a sleepy mumble. He grins at her act.

"My darling," he coos as she rubs her eyes, continuing the facade. "You seem to have forgotten a few things." He raises the matching bra and pants into the air, his smile widening.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," she says. She rolls to lie on her back, her arms resting above her head. James' breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight. Her hair is spread across her chest and one knee is bent upwards, accentuating the slenderness of her legs.

"Would you like to nap too, James?" she says to quietly he hardly hears her. Her eyes are on his, wide with desire.

No, James Potter definitely didn't know his wife as well as he thought.

He breathes a heavy sigh. "Merlin, yes."

He rips his shirt over his head and immediately reaches to undo his trousers. Fingers fumbling over the buttons in his haste, Lily sidles over on her knees. "Let me help, sweetheart." She slowly, painfully slowly, undoes his trousers, and pushes them over his hips. They fall in a heap on the ground and he his left in nothing but his boxers. She slips a finger under the strap and pulls him onto the bed. Resting on his elbows, he is draped across her. With one final look at the beautifully naked woman beneath him, he leans down to capture her lips with his. Their kiss is fierce, passionate. Filled with longing and a weighty desire.

It is only a matter of minutes before James feels himself harden to the point of pain. Following the trail of discarded clothes to the bedroom was sexy enough; having his wife so wanting, arching against him as his lips bruise hers is a whole new level. She tilts her head in a need to breathe, breaking the kiss. But he can't stop. He needs more. He needs her. He kisses the length of her neck, pausing to bite at her pulse point. Her appreciative moan reverberates into his own chest. It's enough to make him groan in response. He crashes his mouth back onto hers, needing to feel her hot breath and her soft lips. Rolling slightly onto his side, his arms are freed for his hands to roam her glorious body. He skims the smooth skin of her hips, rising to capture her waist in his strong hands. He can feel her chest heaving against his as their kiss turns more brutal, their lips battling for dominance. He feels her hands move from tugging at his hair, down his back, grabbing at his bum, fingernails biting his skin. He moans into her mouth. Waging war, he slides his hands south. Soon he is rubbing her gently, smiling as she stiffens at the contact. But then she melts against him, her hands going slack behind him. See, he knows what she likes. He knows that this simple move has her close her eyes and part her lips. He knows that circling his thumb has her back arching. He knows that sinking a careful finger into her depths causes a small crease to form between her eyebrows as she moans even louder. He knows his wife well.

He lets the wetness surround him. He sinks his forehead onto her shoulder, kissing the skin there lazily. Her breasts move against him as her breathing quickens, almost like a reminder. With a small smile, he moves to catch one breast in his free hand, messaging it and rolling a thumb over her erect nipple.

"James," she groans roughly. "Enough. Want more." He meets her now open eyes and a powerful throb travels along his still painfully hard erection. She flashes a grin as she feels him twitch against her, and the next thing he knows he is on his back, his wife's legs straddling his hips. She leans over him, her wetness pressing against him teasingly.

"Do you want me, James?" she breathes in his ear. He cradles her hips in his hands, circling his thumbs over the smoothness of her pale skin.

"Yes," he says, tilting his head back as a wave of desire flows over him. Her breasts are pressed into his chest and her breath is hot and heavy at his neck.

And he's in her. She's pressing herself onto him, taking him in on blow. They both cry out in unison. She leans back, giving him a full view of her beautiful body. She rises on him then throws her head back as she plunges down again. They move together like this, she rocking up and down and he thrusting to meet her. Slowly. So slowly, they move as one.

He slides his hands over her bum, cupping and guiding. His eyes are open, watching. He loves watching her, learning her. For he knows that her jaw clenches in concentration to continue the rhythm they have set. He knows that her eyes close when her head moves back. He knows that she likes to grip at his chest, leaving little red marks in her forcefulness. He knows that her mind is completely and utterly focused on him. He can see it in her eyes when she finds the energy to open them. They always open and instantly meet his, as though she knows where to find him no matter what. Their gazes will linger. He will smile and she will smile. She will lean forward and kiss him softly, gently. He will hold her there, not wanting to lose her touch. Then she will begin moaning his name over and over. She will breathe his name in his ear, on his lips. And he will grin in anticipation. For he knows what the next stage is. He feels her contract around him. She throws her head back, flinging her hair behind her, as she releases a strangled cry. He knows that her legs will shake with the pressure and that will be his cue to flip them over so that he hangs over her. He pumps into a final few times and lets himself go. He falls atop of her, leaning his forehead against hers. She will smile and kiss him slowly, lazily. He will reciprocate with more fervour. He will then kiss her cheek, tell her he loves her and she will moan softly in response, her tiredness filtering in. He knows his wife well.

"I think I might actually need a nap now," she laughs. He rolls off of her and agrees, sighing contently. She leans toward him, laying a small hand on his chest. Her startling green eyes watch him tenderly. He returns her gaze, wondering whether he'll ever get over the beauty of her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak –

A cry jolts them both. A baby's cry.

James laughs. "Your son wants you," he says as he pulls the duvet over himself. "I'm going to have a nap."

She laughs along. He knows she would protest, complaining why it should be her to go to Harry, if it weren't for the fact that she wants it to be her. He knows she will hurry off, grabbing a dressing gown as she goes, desperate to be with the little boy who calls for her. She will lift him into her arms muttering about not liking to see him cry. She will seat herself in the rocking chair and stay with him until his crying subdues. She will look into his eyes, inwardly marvelling at how similar they are to what she sees in the mirror, and tell him she loves him. He knows all of this.

Because, you see, James Potter knows his wife very well.

Sometimes.

* * *

_A/N_

Thank you for reading :) This is my first time writing smut - you could say I have now lost my smut-virginity. congrats, me. Though I did try to make it a bit more; hopefully my attempts at showing L/J's love came across, because any good relationship has to be more than just good sex.

Give me an insight into your thoughts... review please!


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